


Welcome Home

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: This is the Soundtrack of Our Life [34]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a dancer, Humans, Lydia is Meddlesome, M/M, Song fic, Stiles is a dancer, The Author Regrets Nothing, dance au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: Running a successful dance studio isn't always easy. Especially when the married couple haven't lived under the same roof for over a year and one of them can't resist snarking at the other. When the end of year recital is set to take place, it takes the other business partner's choreography skills to step in and help mend a bruised heart.





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CharWright5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharWright5/gifts).



> The Song: Welcome Home  
> Artist: Tegan and Sara  
> Link to Song: Right [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoiLuTmz4Aw).
> 
> Song inspired by CharWright5.

“Why do I have to dance this with _him_?”

The question carried venom with it as Derek all but spat his reply at the ground. He’d never be so stupid to bark in the face of their troupe leader, who also happened to be their choreographer, and if he were being civil and even minded about things, their best friend since they were in school together.

Lydia rolled her head the way she always did to gather her thoughts before calmly and kindly explaining how and why you could go fuck yourself with a brick wrapped in barbed wire. Levelling her withering glare at Derek and Stile, she gave them a smile that usually meant a slow and painful death, that would be executed either by her amazing choreography, or her militant drills of barking out positions and expecting flawless and graceful transitions, no matter how far removed they were and how ugly the transition would sometimes be. 

“You are dancing this together because you and Stiles are perfectly matched for this.”

“We’ve broken up.”

“I know you haven’t.”

“It’s complicated then.”

Lydia clapped her hands loudly a scant centimetre from the tip of his nose.

“Then uncomplicate it. You and Stiles will be performing this at the showcase next week or you will be looking for a new company and a new troupe to dance with and teach with. End of discussion. End of debate. Whatever it is. Settle it.”

With that Lydia stalked out of the practise space, feet padding softly across the polished wooden floor, fiery red hair moving in the breeze she seemed to generate with her righteous exits. The heavy doors that usually closed with a soft “phloomf” slammed hard enough that the mirrors rattled and shook Stiles out of his dazed look as he was warming up at the barre, earbuds in, drowning out the sound of the argument that just took place.

Pulling the ear pod out, he set his phone down in the dock and queued up the song.

“She seems to have listened to you as well as she listened to me.”

Derek scowled, but nodded. Stiles had tried first. When he was shut down, it was Derek’s turn. With the fact there was no dissuading her decision, they had already agreed if she shut them both down, they’d do it. At the end of the day, they were professionals, they were invested in this place, both emotionally and financially, even if Lydia WAS their boss on paper.

“It’s not ballet. I can’t do it…”

“You’re going to be fine. I’ve never seen anyone move as well as you do. Lydia incorporated some…”

“Enough. Stiles. Just.” Derek sighed tiredly. “Enough.”

Stiles nodded his head and shut his mouth. Taping up the sheets with the diagrams for the choreography and where it fell with the lyrics, they talked it through and mimed it through a few times before Stiles even hit play on his phone. Setting it to repeat, they started to work on the movements.

Late into the evening, indulging in cheese sticks and curly fries, they looked across the room at each other, too tired to snark or snap at each other. Looking at his last mozzarella stick, then looking up at Derek, he slid it over without a word, and leaned against the mirror, closing his eyes in the peaceful quiet that filled their space. Hearing something sliding back his way, he almost frowned as he opened his eyes, expecting to see the mozza stick sitting there, but was surprised when he saw Derek’s last curly fry. Picking it up, he slowly ate the spiral with a wistful smile on his face. Derek smiled as he ate the mozza stick.

“Coming home tonight?”

Derek opened his mouth to answer, but looked down, and just shook his head.

Stiles sniffed slightly and nodded. Getting to his feet, he offered Derek a hand up.

“Give my best to Cora.”

Grabbing their garbage, he walked out of the room, discreetly wiping the tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks. Derek watched Stiles leave the room, not for one instant fooled as to his emotional state. Reaching under the collar of his shirt, he pulled out the silver chain he wore, even when he was sleeping, and took it off. Pulling the one adornment off, he felt the weight of it in his hand, feeling the pinprick of tears threatening to overwhelm him. Sliding the ring back on his left hand, he put the chain back on and looked at the ceiling. Taking a breath, he cleaned up the last little bit, shut off the lights, and locked the door behind him.

***

They didn’t have their typical amount of time to work through the choreography, but they’d done what they could. Every night, they’d finish off with snack food, and silent contemplation. Stiles had noticed the reappearance of the ring straight away, but didn’t say anything. He’d started wearing his again too. The offer was extended every night to Derek, if he wanted to come home, and every night it was politely declined. They left to their separate residences, but their lingering glances and soft smiles had replaced their resolute ignoring of each other’s existence. Their touches were more casual, more frequent, and noticed by Lydia during their group classes, or Jordan in the front office.

The night of their performance they felt the usual nerves before going out on stage, but the initial aggression they’d approached this with had long since settled out. 

Taking to the stage after they’d been announced, Stiles and Derek took centre stage, dressed head to toe in all black, leaving only their faces and hands exposed. If you looked at just the right angle, Derek’s silver chain glinted in the high stage lights. 

Hands clasped together as a mournful song started, the lights slowly raised as they moved en pointe. 

Looking up to the orange spot light, they beamed as the song began.

_The sun's rays don't bother me_  
 _No they cast down such a wonderful heat_  
 _Masking beauty_

Derek’s eyes opened as he started to move towards the ‘sun’ leaving Stiles to trail behind.

_By a terrible fate_

Derek stopped and Stiles’ steps faltered, forcing him to stop. Derek’s face was a mask of confusion, looking between Stiles and the ‘sun.’

_If you fly to close and then you turn too late_

The lighting dropped to a bluer hue. Derek’s face took on a look of panic as the lights dimmed.

_The night still confuses me_

They both sunk down to the stage, arms length from each other, Derek facing away, and Stiles staring longingly at him.

_We'd all get tired and have to sleep eventually_   
_Regardless of the sun's demands_   
_Regardless if it made much sense_

The lighting came up to a warmer tone, Derek rolling backwards to find his feet.

_You moved so far that I know how far_

Derek moved across the stage, out of Stiles’ reach, who retreated a little left from centre. 

_And then you got so sad that I, I bought a car_  
 _Yes I'll come get you_

Moving with grace, Stiles spun to just right of centre, on ‘Derek’s side’ of the stage, offering his hand to what was a confused looking Derek.

_And I will bring you home_

Derek shakes his head and retreats further away from Stiles. Stiles moves a bit closer with intent.

_I'll come get you_   
_And I will bring you home_

The both mirror each other’s stance and walk back towards centre.  
Derek sits Stiles down and joins him, facing Stiles with a broken look on his face.

_He sat me down_

Derek holds his hand over his heart, as though protecting it, while reaching with the other hand to Stiles.

_He said he was incomplete_

Stiles stands and offers Derek a hand up. Derek takes Stiles hand and lifts himself to his feet and turns to press his forehead against Stiles’, brushing their noses together in an approximation of a kiss. 

_He thinks true love's gonna get him back on his feet_   
_He said you only find love once in your life_  
 _So I guess when you find it_

Derek spins Stiles in so he rests with his back to Derek’s chest and as the vocals swell, he lifts Stiles straight up, balancing him on one hand. 

_You're gonna hold it right_

With a theatrical move, Stiles ‘fell’ from his perch, causing the audience to gasp. Derek’s arms were there to arrest the momentum, which allowed Stiles to arch around Derek’s body.

_You'll hold it right_

Stiles slid the rest of the way to the floor as Derek moved away.

_It makes no sense_   
_Cos there's no sense in it at all_

From back stage, Lydia comes out, picking Stiles up from the ground and clasps his arms, watching Derek as he moves across the stage. 

_We all wait around_

Derek sways a bit on his side of the stage before collapsing to the ground…

_We wait for you to get tired and fall_

…and wraps his arms around his legs.

_As your shadow it resumes in me_

A shadow flicks across Stiles’ face that looks suspiciously like a wolf.

_Yes your shadow it was made for me_  
Lydia puts her hand on Stiles chest, pressing her forehead to his.

_She speaks clearly_

Derek mimes screaming to Stiles.

_He speaks loudly_

Stiles grasps his head and ‘screams’ to the sky. 

_I speak only clearly loudly_

Lydia pushes Stiles towards Derek, nodding her head in encouragement. 

_Yes she speaks clearly_

Derek crouches tighter into a ball 

_He speaks loudly_

Stiles sinks to the ground and wraps his arms around Derek. 

_I speak only clearly loudly_

Derek looks up at Stiles.

_Yeah my shadow well it resumes with me_

Derek then moves across the stage, shoulders slumped. Stiles crumples to the ground. 

_Yes my shadow well it was made for me_

Lydia wraps her arms around Stiles bringing him back to his feet and gestures to Derek. Stiles and Derek keep their backs resolutely towards each other. 

_She told me love will come once in your life_

Stepping down stage, their backs to each other they move perfectly in sync. 

_So I guess when you find it_

They take a step backwards towards each other.

_You’re gonna hold it right_

They pirouette in sync with each other so they are facing each other again. 

_You’re gonna hold it right_

Taking a step towards each other. 

_You hold it right_

Derek moves to the edge of the lit stage, away from Stiles. 

_You moved so far that I knew exactly how far_

Derek turns to face downstage and away from Stiles. 

_And then you got so sad that I, I bought a car_

Stiles moves to Derek, who doesn’t move away this time. 

_Yes I'll come get you_

Stiles places a hand on Derek’s arm. 

_And I will bring you home_

Derek turns towards Stiles. 

_I'll come get you_

Stiles takes his hand.

_And I will bring you home_

Derek wraps both hands around Stiles’ as Stiles backs them towards centre stage.

_I’ll come get you_

Stiles looks at Derek with genuine tears in his eyes. 

_And I'll say_

Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, who clutches him tightly to his chest. 

_Welcome home_

***

For a short performance, the applause was deafening. Stiles didn’t bother trying to wipe the tears from his eyes, he was too busy waving his thanks to the warm reception their dance had garnered them. Exiting the stage, Stiles and Derek made their way to the dressing room to remove the stage make up that kept them from lighting up like glow sticks under the lights. Lydia wasn’t too far behind them, humming softly to herself as she went into her dressing room to perform the same ritual.

“Derek…you were amazing.”

Smiling, he nodded his head.

“Wouldn’t have been if it weren’t you out there with me.”

Stiles felt himself blush a little bit at that compliment.

“Coming home tonight?”

It had been a matter of asking the question every night they saw each other for over a year since Derek moved back from his attempt at leaving behind their small town life for something bigger. He’d done okay, but his heart just wasn’t in it, in any city he’d gone to. He’d risked their marriage and said some rather hurtful things each time Stiles tried to bring him back. Stiles asked, every day, every night, and got the same answer.

“Can I?”

Dropping the cloth he’d been using, he spun around and looked at Derek who was staring at the chair he was grasping as though it were keeping him from blowing away.

Walking across the dressing room, Stiles slid his arms around Derek’s sweat slicked torso, tears once again springing to his eyes. 

“Come home Der.”

Turning in his husband’s arms, he placed a hesitant kiss to Stiles’ lips, which was returned with the fire of a year of longing.

Neither one of them noticed, or cared, about the strawberry blond, or the smug look on her face.

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged a number of people in Twitter as well who I hope enjoy the story.


End file.
